Ilovemyanimals024

I was diagnosed with cancer a little over two weeks ago, after a regular checkup. Turns out I have a tumor on my colon that has spread to other areas (liver and lungs so far) and will require extensive chemo and surgery for any chance to live longer than 8 months of not having any treatment.

I haven't told my wife because she'll only pressure me to get the treatment, which results in months of pain and suffering for a relatively small chance. Instead, I'm making sure our last few months together are filled with only happy memories. I'll start to work later and will finish earlier each day, to make her breakfast in bed and take her on dates in the evenings.

My landlord where I rent my workshop from has agreed to let me run my business for free for the next 6 months, which means significantly less financial stress so I can save a lot more, so my wife has something to carry over afterward.

I hope she'll forgive me for taking this path.

As a kid, my parents always used to go to antique shops. To find things for the house, a unique housewarming gift or just to browse. I was always fascinated by the boxes and boxes of unsent postcards.

I always wondered why there were so many. My parents bought just enough cards for the folks they wanted to send them to. They never had extras. I don't know if this was frugality or what.

As an adult, I travel a ton for work now and I have probably over a hundred postcards. Some filled out. Most blank. I don't think anyone wants to hear from me so I just go my thing. Slowly collecting postcards that will probably get tossed when I die.

My manager and my supervisor are in cahoots and they make my working life a world I don't want to be in. Because it is not a place where I make decisions I feel like a victim. Yet I am not strong enough or fiscally sound enough to walk away without having another job making at least the same amount of money.